


To Overcome the Blues of Success

by NicoleEdda



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Coming Out, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Original Character(s), Romance, Sports, Writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:02:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoleEdda/pseuds/NicoleEdda
Summary: Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood reached their dreams...but what happens now?  Both men are experiencing the blues of their successes.Is it possible to take loss, and make something good?Is it possible to take success, and make something even greater?This is a story about what happens when two people learn to move forward, together.





	To Overcome the Blues of Success

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic!
> 
> I'm a newb Malec fanatic. After reading LOTS of the lovely stories out there, I finally decided to write one of my own.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

_Three years ago…_

“…and the Oscar goes to…” the first presenter says as she opens the sealed envelope.

Magnus looks calm on the outside.  He always does.

Dot and Raphael know him better than most, and they see past the façade.  They can see he’s holding his breath.  They are too, as they clutch his hands.

“Magnus Bane,” both presenters shout in unison.

His mind goes into autopilot.  Magnus wasn’t sure he’d win, but he came prepared.  He has an acceptance speech, scribbled onto a piece of letterhead he stole from Cat’s office, sitting in his breast pocket.

Magnus has just won for Best Original Screenplay.

The audience erupts in resounding applause.  It echoes through the Dolby Theater, a sound that will haunt him the rest of his life.  Magnus huffs out a large breath as he stands.  His body knows before his mind does to thank his family next to him.  He kisses and hugs Raphael and Dot in that order.  Dot could kiss him forever, but she releases him as tears fall down her face.  Raphael’s mouth twists so tight, Magnus wonders for a second if he bit his tongue in the excitement.  Magnus knows Raphael better than that though – this is how he gets when he’s overwhelmingly happy.

Magnus smooths his coat as he walks, feet determined to carry him without so much as scuffing the carpet.  He glides on stage like an angel, like he’s won an Academy Award before.  Again, it’s all a façade.  He keeps his insecurities deep in the pit of his stomach, as he lets the butterflies soar through every fiber of himself.

He kisses each presenter as a third woman joins on stage.  She’s holding the statue and, with a smile, hands it to Magnus.  He struggles to breathe as he takes in the moment.  The first thing he notices is how lightweight it is, considering it holds so much meaning.  It’s cold in his hands, but he knows he’s sweating as his nerves get the better of him.  He holds it to his chest as he approaches the microphone.

“Oh my god,” he says, his voice shaky.  It’s enough to give him pause.  He pats his chest where the letter rests, but doesn’t reach for it.  Instead, he takes another deep breathe, looks out at the crowd, and smiles.

“Ladies and gentlemen, _Shadow World_ was not an easy story to tell.  I need to thank Ragnor Fell, my friend and mentor throughout this process.  I would never have found the humor or courage to write this without him.  I want to thank my cast, Jem Carstairs, Tessa Gray, and Will Herondale, for bringing this story to life.  I have to thank my producer, Catarina Loss, for believing in this project even when I lost hope…especially when I lost hope.  Thank you to the Silent Brothers for directing such a beautiful piece of art.  Thank you to everyone at Portal Productions for taking a chance on me.

When I was young, I read the legends.  I grew up among stories about Nephilim and the Downworld.  I lost myself in myths about demons, angels, and humans.  I realized that these legends teach us about the good, the bad, and the grey in all of us.  It helped me understand myself, and taught me how to live my life openly, just as I am.  It was hard for me growing up.  The world tried to put me in boxes.  The world told me I should conform, but the legends allowed me to craft my own story.  Stories like _Shadow World_ are for every kid who feels different.  Every kid is worthy of love, and to love freely, without judgement.  For every child who thinks they have to stay in the shadows, remember this…you are beautiful, wonderful, valuable creatures.  Believe me when I say, this world is changing.  All it takes is love, and a brave heart, to make the legends come true.  Thank you.”

The group ushers him backstage as the applause deafens the room behind him.  There’s electricity in his veins, and blood rushing through is ears as he relishes every second of this moment.  It’s not every day that someone reaches their dream, and he’s going to enjoy this as long as he can.

Of its nine nominations, _Shadow World_ wins for Best Actress in a Leading Role, which Tessa Gray accepts with pride, as well as for Costume Design.

The ceremony lasts for hours.  Even though there’s magic in the air, the time starts to drag as night falls.  It’s a welcome change once the telecast ends, credits roll, and everyone heads home…

It’s the Academy Awards, for crying out loud.  Once the credits roll, it’s time for the _after party_.

**

Magnus and the entire crew show up to Madonna’s Post-Oscar party at Guy Oseary’s private estate in Beverly Hills.  The team didn’t win costume design for nothing.  Each of them is dressed to the nines.  Despite being behind the scenes, Magnus’ outfit rivals Tessa, Will, and Jem put together.

The pièce de résistance is his knee-length black coat, embroidered with gold thread down both lapels and his entire back.  Anyone who saw _Shadow World_ would know the symbols instantly.  Magnus commissioned the coat by the costume designer herself, matching the symbols used in the film.  He chose his shoes, a pair of black, double leather Monk straps accented with gold buckles exactly like the coat’s threading.  Magnus enlisted his longtime friend and makeup artist, Jocelyn Fray, to complete his look.  She went with black eyeliner on the top lid and inner crease, and thick gold eyeliner on the bottom lid, before finishing with a generous helping of gold highlighter for his cheeks.  Magnus might just give his statue a run for its golden money.

“Did I mention you look like royalty?”  Dot teases as she, Magnus, and Raphael enter the party entwined in each other’s arms.

“Please, Dorothea, his ego is already through the roof,” Raphael snorts.

“Let’s find a nice twink to help you unwind,” Magnus fires back, his voice equal parts sarcastic and hopeful.

“That’s a hard pass, but thanks,” Raphael cringes.

Trying to convince Raphael that a fling could do his cold shoulders some good, the gang make their way through the foyer.  There are hundreds of guests littered throughout the house.  The air is a bit stuffy, and the music thumps against Magnus’ rib cage.  A waiter hands each of them a glass of champagne as they continue past the dining rooms and living spaces, and finally through the backyard patio doors.

Calling the backyard an oasis might be an understatement.  The property stretches for acres, every slope extending towards groves of trees and smaller flora.  There are tables set every few yards to make the palatial yard feel intimate and extravagant all at once, and lights strung overhead to bathe guests in warm hues.

“It’s beautiful,” Magnus hums.

“You sure are,” a voice coos from behind them.

Everyone turns to see a lithe, blonde-haired woman strut from inside.  She has a small harem of men behind her, each of them handsome, young, and naïve.  The woman pouts her red lips just so, her eyes never leaving Magnus.

“She’s out for blood,” Dot whispers.  Raphael schools his grin, while Magnus sucks in a heady breath.

_She’s wild_ , he thinks, looking her up and down.

“Congratulations on your Oscar, Magnus Bane.  It’s a pleasure to meet the man behind _Shadow World_ ,” her voice dripping with praise.

The woman steps into Magnus’ space, her men standing back.  She extends her hand, dangling it in front of his face like a line.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says before taking the proffered hand and pressing soft lips to her knuckles.

“Camille Belcourt,” she says with a cloyingly sweet baby voice.

Dot and Raphael take a sharp breath, but Magnus doesn’t let the revelation rattle his bones.  His smile upturns, and his eyes sparkle.

“It’s a pleasure to meet Gregor Belcourt’s daughter,” Magnus states.  “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“No need to flatter me.  You’re here, which means you already have representation, be it duMort Agency, or someone else,” she fires back.

Flames dance in her eyes as she smiles.  Her gaze lacks empathy, and all Magnus sees is a thirst for power.  It’s drawing him closer still.

“We’ll leave you two to discuss… _business_ ,” Raphael lets the word roll off his tongue like an anvil off a cliff.  He takes Dot’s hand as they wander farther through the garden.

Camille nods back to her harem.  At her command, they disperse in and around the estate.

“Daddy’s here.  I’ll introduce you, and show you around,” she purrs, and then leans closer into his ear, “My driver will take us back to my apartment later.”

Magnus sucks in another breath, feeling hot under his collar, as she grabs him by the arm and pulls him back inside.

**

Magnus wakes up in the unfamiliar bedroom, his clothes scattered on the ground.  The room was dark last night and Magnus chalked it up to the midnight hour, but as he catches the time on the alarm clock, he sees the room still cast in darkness.  The clock reads midday, causing his eyes to bulge.  He stretches his neck, and then notices the empty space beside him.

_She didn’t say goodbye_ , Magnus thinks, the thrill of last night now weighing on his heart, _and I’m in her bed_.

He’s had his share of one-night stands.  He’s the fool for thinking this might be different…until he notices the note on the bedside table.

_“I like men who know how to have a good time.  Let’s do that again soon.  I put my number in your phone._

_P.S. Your mom kept calling so I silenced the damn thing.”_

Magnus blinks wildly, looking for his phone among the sheets at his waist.  He eventually unearths it, the battery almost dead and the screen lit up with dozens of missed calls.  His phone recognizes a few numbers, including one from duMort Agency, but there’s a series of missed calls that bring his anxiety to a tipping point.

He dials quickly, praying it isn’t too late or too early.  What time is it in Indonesia, anyways?

“Anakku?”  A frail voice asks over the line.

“Ibu,” Magnus hums back.

His mother congratulates him, bringing tears to his eyes.

“How are you?”  He asks, his heart growing heavier by the second.

She sighs, letting silence pass for a moment between them.  “Today is a good day, my son.  That’s all I can hope for,” she muses.

Magnus nods even though no one can see him.  He wants the world to know he understands, all the same.

“I’ll visit soon, I promise,” he says as a single tear drops down his cheek.  His voice doesn’t falter, and he brushes his wet face before she answers.

“Please do.  I know you are busy, but I miss you.  Go on, have a good day.  Aku cinta kamu,” she sings through the phone.

“Aku cinta kamu.  Bye, mom,” he chokes out, hanging up before the sob racks his chest.

He stands and pulls his clothes on one by one, except for the coat.  It’s a chilly February in Los Angeles, but he knows what the tabloids will write if they catch him in the same outfit as last night.  Once he toes his shoes back on, he sits amongst the mess the murk of the room.  It’s eerily silent, and Magnus let’s his loneliness wash over him.

Last night was a dream come true, but even dreams can’t last forever.  Everyone wakes up.  Reality comes back sooner or later.

Magnus had been so hopeful last night, looking forward to where things might lead, with his career, with Camille, with everything.  Now, as he stares through the dim light of the room, his future looks as dark as ever.

Magnus is stronger than his anxiety, most of the time.  He tells himself often that, someday, he’ll rise above his own thoughts, the ones that make him feel small and worthless.  _Life is a series of successes and failures_ , he reminds himself, and tries to take comfort in this knowledge.

He wants to ride this success, wants to enjoy it as long as possible.  So he fights against the nagging voice that prods him, _what now?_

**Author's Note:**

> I have most of the story mapped out in my head (and soon on paper and in a Word doc), but please let me know what you think.
> 
> I will post every 2-3 weeks for my sanity as well as yours :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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